The Spring Princess
by dbcWinter
Summary: New season, new problems for the princess. Sequel to The Christmas Princess.
1. Chapter 1

So I've written this months ago, I have a few chapters written and I decided to just post it - it is more useful here than on my computer anyway :p It's my way of celebrating the upcoming Book XI :D I will probably return to this and finish it when the school year is over.

As always, feel free to read and review.

Love, W.

Nothing belongs to me, sadly.

* * *

*****The Spring Princess*****

_New season, new problems for the princess._

_Sequel to The Christmas Princess_

* * *

**Thursday, March 27, Lunch**

Remember how once upon a time lunch was like the best thing in school?

I know that one of the characteristics of our memory is that it makes things look way better than they actually were when they happened. Therefore, our memories are not really the copies of reality but basically our representations and they include our judgments, thoughts and feelings on the subject. Meaning, none of the things that we remember has happened exactly the way we things they have.

But I still think I am not idolizing lunches in my previous years of high school. I mean, they did not actually include constant talking about colleges, Senor Projects and bickering. These days, there is nothing I wish nothing more than a relaxing lunch talk about the latest Arrow episode or how sad we are that Psych has ended.

Ok, I'd still prefer to have my boyfriend home from Japan but since I am trying not to be a cry baby, I'll focus on things I actually have some control over.

Maybe we are simply growing up and we are realizing that there are more important stuff to talk about than Stephen Amell's abs.

Though sitting with Tina, Lana and Lilly during lunches makes me doubt that we are any more mature than we were 3 years ago.

"I still don't understand why you want to buy those books? They are so expensive, plus, I mean, you can totally get them online or in the libraries!" said Lana when Tina told us she had ordered the complete collection of Brontë books from England.

Lilly, who doesn't like Lana any more than she did when we were Freshmen, of course snapped back.

"I do not expect a Barbie-Wannabe like yourself to understand."

"Whatever," Lana, who feels the same about Lilly, rolled her eyes. "I am just saying, Tina, you could spend money on more important stuff, like new Betsey Johnson bags or something."

"You are impossible to prove a point to," said Lilly, "not everything is about clothing, you know. If people truly lived for sleeping, partying, clothing and reproducing_,_ we would all already die of obesity side effects of cosmetic surgeries before our bodies would even be able to reproduce. It would mean the end of human race. This is why we need stuff like art in our lives. It offers us a different perspective and enriches our existence."

Lana just stared at Lilly with her mouth full of low fat yoghurt.

"I just can't understand why she can't get books from the library, like normal people," she shrugged.

"Well, mainly because I hate waking up at 3 am, wanting to read a book I don't have at home," sighed Tina.

Lana just stared at her with her eyes wide open in disbelief.

"Why would anyone want…"

"Anything but sleeping, partying, clothing and reproducing_,_ at 3 am? Well, Lana, that's the difference between people like you and Tina," finished Lilly.

"Yeah, I hate to interrupt this very important book discussing," said Trisha, "but have you heard about Jersey Shore?"

"Why would you even want to know what was happening there?" Lilly rolled her eyes. "Haven't you realized yet that MTV shows, such as your Shore 1.0 are completely scripted and fake? You don't seriously think people behave like that, do you? Oh, please, Trisha, you might be naïve enough to believe Coke Zero has less sugar that the regular one but are you really saying that you think MTV shows are an actual and truthful reflection of today's life? It is only being produced so that individuals such as yourself could start behaving stupidly, ignoring their common sense and that precious little intelligence they were born with just so that they could be 'cool' in the eyes of other imbeciles that enjoy the same rubbish on TV. This way the society becomes one big 'in' crowd, nothing but consumers of the crap TV and your Snooki advertises every time she puts some mascara on that fake eyelashes. Moreover, since such a large percentage of population's main concern is whether their butt looks big in the new jeans, they are complete incapable of focusing on real problems. Which is why the government can do whatever they want and nobody does anything to stop it. If it is not mention on MTV, the problem basically doesn't exist for people like you, Trisha. So thank you so much for co-creating this stupid world aspiring people like myself are forced to live in now."

Harsh words from someone who enjoys watching Catfish on regular bases. Even though she insists it's because the host is cute.

"I just don't understand why you can't be a little supporting here, that's all," Trisha blinked, not fully understand what Lilly has just said, "I mean, I totally stood by you when your show started broadcasting in Korea."

Lilly already opened her mouth to shoot back when Kenny (or Kenneth as he likes to be called now) spoke up.

"I'll never understand how you people can talk about books, clothing and reality shows when we are expecting to get letters back from colleges any day now!"

"Well, Kenny, mainly because we still haven't go them and it is kind of pointless to worry about things that still haven't happened," said Lana.

"Still! This will decide our futures!"

"No, I don't think it will make a big change for you - you will still be a nerd no matter where you go," Lana said while finishing her yoghurt.

"I just hope they will grant my application for a single room in the dorm. There's no way I am living with a roomie!" exclaimed Boris.

"Something tells me that even if you do get a roommate, he will be requesting a new room soon," grinned JP and winked at me.

"No way!" repeated Boris.

And he went on and on but I didn't listen. I heard my phone buzzing and I held my breath as I looked at the caller ID. You know, Dad only phones me when there's an emergency and honestly, given Grandmere's love for Sidecar and Gitanes, I wouldn't be surprised if everything simply caught up with her.

But I needn't have worried. When I saw his name written on my hone screen, my face became one giant smile and I didn't care how goofy I looked. I excused myself though I doubt anyone even heard me since they were arguing about potential roommates they might get at college.

I went to the third floor stairwell and answered the phone.

"Hey, beautiful," said Michael.

"Hey," I said with the goofiest smile on my face, because my serotonin levels went through the roof like they do every time I hear his voice. I know, this is not healthy. "Why are you calling? Is everything ok?"

Because, you know, it was like in the middle of the night where he was.

"Everything is fine … minus the fact that I miss you. I just wanted to hear your voice. And tell you that I love you."

My heart skips a beat every time he says those three words. I will never get tired of hearing them.

HE LOVES ME!

"Well, you can do that anytime you want."

"Oh, and just to remind you, don't forget I'm coming home Tuesday."

Right. Like I could forget the date he was FINALLY coming home from Japan for good. I have it circled in my calendar for months now. With dozens of exclamation marks and hearts accompanying it.

"I know Tuesday evening is a school night and everything …" he went on, "but do you think your Mum will let you go out?"

"Hmmm, Tuesday night?" I repeated and tried to sound worried. Lars who was, as always, listening to my conversation (but I guess he does have a right to do so since he helped Michael and I get back together) chuckled. "I don't think Tuesday night will be good for me. I am already spoken for."

"Oh … oh, ok," Michael said and I could hear disappointment in his voice.

This was just so cute.

"Yeah …" I sighed, "I'm seeing my boyfriend for the first time since January so I think I'll spend the evening with him."

Michael didn't say anything for a full minute while Lars was dying of suppressed laughter.

"He's so lucky," Michael smirked, "you're adorable, do you know that? I'll call you in the evening, alright?"

Five Days Till Michael Comes Back.

I guess times really are changing. Sometimes I couldn't wait for the weekend and now I wish nothing more than this stupid weekend passing soon.

**Thursday, March 27, G & T**

I seriously hate JP right now. His comment regarding Boris' roommate qualities upset Boris so much that he is playing his Maher on the violin so loud that Mrs Hill actually came from the teachers' lounge to tell him to keep it down.

She heard him though the CLOSET door, the CLASSROOM doors and the doors of the TEACHER LOUNGE.

He is only ONE door away from me.

And then I wonder why so many geniuses are attending Albert Einstein High School ! Obviously they get crazy from listening to too much Maher. And since pretty much all the geniuses are crazy (just look at Lilly. And my Mum – she still doesn't know how to prepare pizza in the microwave) I think I just found out the best parenting technique – make your kid listen to classical music and his IQ will be through the roof.

Sadly, I think I am too old to take any advantage of this find.

Though, what would be the point? I've been listening to Maher and Stravinsky for THE LAST FOUR YEARS EVERY SCHOOL DAY and my IQ hasn't experienced any significant increase.

Though it is not like any of my other body parts have been subjected to any other kind of growth.

**Thursday, March 27, still G & T**

OK, THAT IS NOT TRUE! NOT ALL GENIUSES ARE CRAZY! I MEAN, MICHAEL IS THE BIGGEST GENIUS OF ALL AND HE IS COMPLETELY NORMAL!

**Thursday, March 27, Ray's**

I feel sorry for René.

Not only is he a homeless prince (his family got kicked out of Italy years before he was even born and their palace was turned into a home of a shoe designer) – now he doesn't even his party circle anymore. I mean, a lot has changed since Christmas and now he is pretty much alone. His buddies don't have time for all-nighters in dance clubs.

We haven't seen Sebastiano since Christmas. With Michael's help he founded his own company in Los Angeles where he now lives. He is working on his first clothing line which will hopefully finally coming out sometime this summer. Because Grandmere stopped financially supporting him he was forced to get a job. Luckily, he ran into Lady Gaga on the streets of LA and she fell in love with his quirky style (especially his Mohawk) so now he is basically her personal designer (lucky girl). He will be taking care of her image for the next album.

Then in January, René and Harry attended a fashion week in Copenhagen where Harry met his former flame, Nastassja Böhler. While dancing the night away in the hottest club in Northern Europe they realized their flame hadn't gone out completely yet. Which of course means Harry doesn't have time to attend parties on all continents in one week anymore.

René, on the other hand, hasn't found himself a job nor has he hooked up with any of his (numerous) former girlfriends. Since nobody is in Genovia, ready to party and everyone is too busy to be spending time with him, he did the only reasonable thing.

He has moved to the Plaza and is spending as much time as he can with me.

And since I am suffering from altruism, I am of course too kind to tell him to go away. I mean, I like René. He does annoy me half the time but he is fun to be around.

And when your boyfriend is in Japan, having a free entertainer helps.

Grandmere is of course thrilled to have him around. She might have accepted Michael as my boyfriend (ACCEPT doesn't equal liking, though. She would have hated him for what he had done to Sebastiano but since he is now a millionaire, hating him is inappropriate in her books. So, she tolerates him now. Which, I have to admit, while being annoying it is also a tremendous improvement.) but in her mind René is still a perfect consort for me.

Because, you know, he has a title.

And his hair isn't blue anymore (speaking of hair, I am now back to my brownish color. Which kind of saddens me because I really liked the color. After Grandmere got over the whole Arne thing, she got her groove back and said 'princesses do not walk around with pagan hair' and I was dragged to Paolo before the school semester started).

Anyway, René now attends formal events here in New York with us (since Dad is usually unable to come. He is preparing for the elections in Genovia where Antonio, the former employee of the Genovian palace that got fired because of … hmmm … of his inappropriate relationship with the royal guests (ok, he sort of co-ruined Grandmere's Christmas party two years ago with Lilly's help) is running against him, with financial aid of Contessa Trevanni who has recovered after embarrassment of last Christmas dinner and now too has gotten her groove of bickering with Grandmere back) while trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life.

And he thinks that hanging out with me is going to help him with that. I have my doubts about that but since a princess is always kind to everyone, I didn't say anything to him.

"So is Michael coming to Genovia in the summer?" he asked my while stuffing pizza in his mouth.

"I guess," I shrugged.

"Good. We could do stuff together."

"I'm sure Harry will stop by," I suggested. I mean, I love René, as much as he can be loved anyway, but I don't want him to be tailing Michael and me.

"He is so wrapped around Nastassja's finger …. And I don't think she likes me very much," sighed René, "but summer is still months away, things might change. Let's change the subject. How what is up with your novel thing?"

The thing with my Senior Project … officially it is a History Of Genovian Olive Pressing, Circa 1254-1650 while unofficially, it is a romance novel called Ransom My Heart.

Yeah, I wrote a book and I lie to everyone about it. Even though I have been telling everyone for years that I want to be a writer when I grow up.

But then again, I lie about everything, why would my Senior Project be any different?

Let's just say that I don't feel comfortable having people read my sex scenes.

That's why only a handful of people know about it. Dr K, since it was his idea, way last year, that I start working on something to get my mind off Michael. Michael, of course, because … I mean, he is Michael. And Sebastiano, Harry and René because …

Well, just the fact that I am in some ways closer to those guys than to Tina or Lana is a clear indicator that I still need therapy.

Anyway, now that the book is finished and Miss Martinez let it count as my Senior Project and I don't necessarily need writing as a therapy and can simply write because I LOVE IT, well, now certain people wonder what I'll do with the book.

Though, I mean, René is right – I spent so much time on that book and I do want to be a published author one day - so why not try to get it published?

Well …. One of the reasons is that then people will know about it.

Ok, that's the only reason.

And I KNOW that the whole point of being a published author is to be PUBLISHED and READ BY PEOPLE, but … I don't know, I just don't feel comfortable having people read Ransom My Heart.

I mean, it has sex in.

And yeah, it is just a book and complete fiction (I mean, it is not I am writing about myself. I mean, it is not like I lived in medieval times!), but it is still somewhat personal.

I don't know. Maybe I am just afraid that no one will like it. I mean, Michael says he likes it but come on! He is my BOYFRIEND! Boyfriend's job is to say things like this!

"I told you, René, leave it alone," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm just saying. What do you have to lose?"

"Grandmere will freak."

"Yeah, but she freaks out about everything, much like you," he smirked. Then he leant closer to me. "Look, BC, I know what romance stories are all about. I know certain aspects of it might be … tricky for you. So, if you feel uncomfortable or unsure about them, I will be more than glad to help you out. I mean, to read them and try to improve them for you."

I just stared at him and my jaw dropped.

"René, are you offering to read my sex scenes?!"

"Yeah. Don't look at me like that! Sex in books is a big deal now, just look at Fifty Shades of Grey! You want them to be … comparable to that."

"I don't want my characters whipping each other - or themselves!" I shrieked.

René raised his hands in surrender.

"I am just trying to help!"

"Well, thank you, René, but I don't think I need your help!"

"I don't think you needing my help would hurt you," he sighed.

Yeah, right. Every time he tries to help I either end up drunk or with orange hair.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks everyone for reading :)_

* * *

**Thursday, March 27, Loft, 6 pm**

Sine, Cosine and Tangent are the three fundamental functions used to find out angles and sides of a right-angled triangle.

I think I'll go see what Mr G (Frank. I have to start calling him Frank) is doing.

**Thursday, March 27, Loft, 7 pm**

Sebastiano just flooded my cell with desperate texts.

Sebastiano: SHE WANTS ME TO USE POLYESTER! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

Sebastiano: SHE WANTS BIG EXPLOSIONS AND POLYESTER! SHE WANTS PUFFY HAIR AND YELLOW MAKE UP!

Sebastiano: SHE WANTS TO JUMP ARO ON A POGO STICK! IS THIS AN AMERI THING? WHAT EVEN IS A POGO STICK?

Sebastiano: SHE WANTS AN ARMY OF POLYESTER DOLLS DANCING ARO HER!

Sebastiano: SHE WANTS FAKE TEETH AND CLAWS FOR NAILS!

My insane cousin having a fit over polyester is way more fun than trigonometry.

Besides, I am a princess. Others' needs are way important than mine.

Mia: Sorry to break it to you, Sebastiano, but you are paid to do what she tells you to. This is called a JOB, you know.

Sebastiano: IT IS POLYESTER! THERE SHOULD BE WORLDWIDE BAN ON USING IT!

Mia: well, there isn't one. So just do what she tells you to do. It is not like you have to use it in YOUR collection!

Sebastiano: I AM THE CREATIVE DIREC FOR HER NEW ALB STYLE! THE WHOLE WORLD WILL KNOW I USED POLYESTER! I!

Mia: I doubt people will actually care. I mean, people expect these kinds of stuff from her.

Sebastiano: IT IS WILL HAVE MY NAM ON!

Mia: well, then quit.

Sebastiano: I CAN'T! I NEED MON FOR MY LINE!

Mia: then use polyester.

Sebastiano: I CANNOT!

But you know what? He is a grown man. It is high time he learnt how to deal with crises without calling his under-aged cousin for help.

I mean, I am totally flunking Trigonometry.

And he is in LA.

Mia: then maybe you could try asking Grandmere to lend you some money for your line?

I am still waiting on him to reply to that.

**Thursday, March 27, Loft, 8 pm**

HE DIDN'T GET A HEART ATTACK OVER POLYESTER AND HIS COUSIN BEING COMPLETELY INSENSITIVE, DID HE?

OH MY GOD, DID I JUST KILL SEBASTIANO?

**Thursday, March 27, Loft, 10 pm**

I was having a very pleasant conversation with my boyfriend when I got another call. I looked at the number.

It was Grandmere.

I ignored it and thought it would go away.

Yeah, right.

About a minute later Mum poked her head into my room just as Michael was about to tell me he loved me.

She had a very annoyed look on her face, like every time someone disturbs her while watching Girls.

"Your grandmother wants to talk to you," she said with a voice that was just screaming ADAM DRIVER MIGHT BE WALKING AROUND SHIRTLESS RIGHT NOW.

"I'll call her later," I said. I mean, come on, I was talking to my boyfriend. Who is in Japan.

Nothing can be more important than that.

Especially since Grandmere was most likely just going to force me to attend some formal dinner. Or to go to Domina Rei event.

Mum's lips became very thin all of a sudden which is never a good sign.

"Just answer the phone, Mia, _please_."

So I just said goodbye to Michael and promised to call him tomorrow.

Then I went to pick up the phone.

Of course, I can always count on Grandmere to kill me lovely evenings.

"Amelia, thank god, why aren't you answering your cell? But never mind, you are here now - by the way, what is the matter with your mother? She sounded annoyed. I told her all that Häagen Daz is not going to do any good for her baby weight. I gave her the number to my Pilates instructor and she was the one who said no. Amelia, guess who has left me a message on my cell phone?"

"I don't know. Sebastiano?"

"_Pfuit_! No, why would he call me in the first place? He made it very clear he does not want my help - well, look where he is now, creating outrageous outfits for pop stars! He could be the next leading designer for Gucci, if he showed a bit more gratitude, you know."

Right.

I mean, yes, he could totally be designing for the biggest fashion brands, it was just that Grandmere loved his outfits too much to let him go.

If he hadn't gone solo (with Michael's help), Sebastiano would have been creating clothes for Genovian Royal Family forever.

Not that it would be a bad thing. His clothes are amazing.

But it is wrong to suppress one's creativity just so that can benefit from it so I am happy to see him doing his own thing.

Even though it might have just killed him.

"Grandmere, I don't think he wants to design for Gucci. He wants to make his own stuff, you know."

"I am not having this conversation. It was Arne."

I admit, I didn't make the connection at first.

"It was Arne what?"

"The one who left me a very nice message. Don't you listen to a word I say, Amelia?"

"Arne?" I said baffled.

"Please, don't say you don't know who Arne is, Amelia!"

Of course I know who Arne is. He is a guy that made Grandmere loved by feminists all over the world.

Even by Lilly.

Oh, and he totally broke her heart.

"I know who he is, I just don't understand why we're even talking about him?"

"Because he left me a message, Amelia."

"Please tell me you deleted it, Grandmere!"

"Of course I didn't. Why would I delete a very nice message of a very pleasant man?"

_Pleasant_? Did something heavy fall on Grandmere's head?

"Um… because he ran off with Contessa Trevanni, remember?"

"She tricked him into that, he said it himself. Anyway, he has asked me to dinner tomorrow night. What should I do?"

"WHATEVER YOU DO, GRANDMERE, DO NOT GO OUT WITH HIM! HE BROKE YOUR HEART, DID YOU FORGET?"

"He didn't break my heart. Yes, it hurt me to see him pick Elena over me, but I was not heart broken. I know what this is about. Because you are _happily_ in love with That Boy you don't want to see me happy. Haven't you learnt anything in the past for years? Princesses are never envious, Amelia, they are happy for everyone else and happy with what they have."

"This is not true, Grandmere. I want you to be happy. But I think you can do so much better than Arne. I mean, he ran off once already, what makes you think he won't do it again?"

"Well, Amelia, what makes YOU think your dear Michael won't run off to Japan or someplace again?"

Honestly, given Grandmere's regress back into her evil, pre-heartbreak self (I am all for moving on after heart break and I know it is mean, but she is way nicer when she is upset. Everyone thinks so, even the feminists), I wouldn't be surprised if it made Michael want to invent some other Cardio-thing and move to Korea for a year.

"I thought you said you wanted my advice, Grandmere."

"I thought so too. But I changed my mind. See you tomorrow for Princess Lessons, Amelia. Good night. And please, tell your mother that keeping her baby weight won't help improve her overall mood."

Why do these things keep happening to me?

I am serious.

**Friday, March 28**

Four Days Till Michael Comes Home.

And sadly I know just enough of Algebra to know how LONG THAT IS!

**Friday, March 28, Psychology**

****Egocentrism in adolescence** **

Though egocentrism is present throughout one's life, it is perhaps the most evident in adolescence.

It's a result of numerous changes teenagers must face. For one, there are body changes. There are changes on the outside and the inside. Teenagers have to get used to constant changes which contributes to their paying attention to themselves.

Changes also happen in their cognitive processes. Teenager is capable of abstract thinking that allows him to think about things such a justice, morals, ethics. He focuses on these changes as they make him feel smart.

Another aspect of teenage life that is flooded with changes is their social life. It is normal for teenagers to become more and more independent from their parents, looking for support in their friends. Therefore, they are entering many friendships, trying to figure out which one suits them the best, one again focusing on themselves.

All these reasons contribute to the egocentrism, this is focusing on themselves.

There are four basic components of teenage egocentrism, one being imaginary audience. This means that a teenager believes everyone is watching their every move – this is caused by teenager's focus on themselves. They believe everyone is just as focused on them – they do not realize pretty much every teenager is too focused on themselves to care about others.

Personal fables are teenager's wrong convictions about themselves. For example, they might feel they are more special than people around them, they feel 'unbeatable', and they are idealists, believing they can be whatever they want.

Pseudostupidity is another result of teenagers' developed cognition that allows them to focus on details. However, it often results in being focused on unimportant things, thus complicating the matter and digressing teenagers' attention from things that truly are important.

OH MY GOD.

THIS IS SO ME!

**Friday, March 28, on my way to therapy**

I guess I should be glad that I am still an adolescent.

BUT I AM ABOUT TO TURN 18 SOON AND I AM GOING TO COLLEGE IN THE FALL!

I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO STILL BE A TEENAGER!

IT IS HIGH TIME I GREW UP!

AND ACCORDING TO TODAY'S PSYCHOLOGY LESSON, I AM NOWHERE NEAR GROWN UP!

I AM STILL A TEENAGER!

I mean, come on! I am a total idealist! WHAT WAS I THINKING, LETTING SEBASTIANO TRY TO SUCCEED ON HIS OWN? THIS IS SEBASTIANO! HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PREPARE SCRAMBLED EGGS! HE THINKS WORLD'S BIGGEST PROBLEM IS POLYESTER – HOW COULD HE POSSIBLY LAST IN REAL WORLD?

AND WHAT WAS I THINKING, GRANDMERE WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER GOING TO LIKE MICHAEL! It doesn't matter he is a millionaire and super famous and renown and everything!

AND WHAT IS UP WITH ME THINKING I COULD BE A PUBLISHED AUTHOR? I GOT A B IN MY CREATIVE WRITING! I AM SURE JK ROWLING OR EMILY BRONTE DIDN'T GET A B IN A SUBJECT THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE HER LIFE!

And what is this with pseudostupidity? That is so me that my picture should be in a dictionary. Kicking a fuss about details, ignoring the bigger picture?

This totally spells as M-I-A T-H-E-R-M-O-P-O-L-I-S!

And I am dating an inventor of a device that changed cardio surgery?

**Friday, March 28, waiting for therapy because Dr K is not here yet!**

Harry just texted me.

Harry: HELP! I am buying flowers for Nastassja! Which one should I get?

Mia: I don't know, Harry. You better not ask me. I mean, I am a total adolescent, way too focused on myself. I am incapable of taking your perspective so I will probably just say something I like, not caring what Nastassja likes, therefore ruining your relationship with her.

Harry: Genovia … are you high?

Mia: No … I am just a teenager.

**Friday, March 28, on my way to Princess Lessons**

"Mia," sighed Dr K as I told him about me being an adolescent, "first of all, egocentrism is present at every age. Second of all, you ARE an adolescent so I don't understand what the big issue is here. And third of all, you are not that egocentric, trust me."

"How can you say that? I am totally pseudo-stupid!"

"Ok, you might be focusing too much on details sometimes…"

"Not sometimes! Always!"

"Mia, people are usually happy when they find something that indicates that they are younger than they actually are?"

"I know but … I am supposed to be a grown up in a bit over a month! Adults are not suffering from pseudo-stupidity!"

"Trust me, some adults do, they suffer far more than you, Mia. Though to be honest, I am not entirely sure that your focus on details is a result of pseudo-stupidity. Actually, I'd say it is a result of you being slightly neurotic."

"I KNEW IT!" I screamed. "THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME, RIGHT?"

"Well, I am a psychologist and we see each other on weekly bases," he said. "Though you are not depressed anymore."

"But I might be manically depressed! I fit the symptoms. I am totally unhappy one day and the next day, I am super happy."

"I assure, we all feel like this from time to time and nothing is wrong with us. Besides, you are a teenager. Mood swings are something that happens."

"That's a myth, I know, I read all about it in Psychology Today! Psychologists used to think that a characteristic of a teenager is having regular mood swings but now we know that their moods don't switch that much more often than those of the adults."

"You seem to know everything, Mia. Then why are you seeing me again?"

"So you are saying I am not manically depressed?"

"No, you are not. And you are as teenager-y as you are supposed to be for your age. Believe me, you grew up a lot over the last year. Actually, I'd say you are a lot more mature than many people your age."

"How?"

"Well, you take care of your pet. You are a responsible older sister. You wrote a novel. You are not doing drugs. Things like these."

"So … my moods are not manic episodes?"

"No, actually, I'd say you are simply … happy."

Oh.

I know his words are making sense and all, but then again, I am totally going to be 18 in a bit over a month, meaning, he will no longer be my shrink. He has to at least officially cure me before letting me go, right?

I knew it. There is totally something wrong with me.

****List Of Conditions I Could Be Possibly Suffering From****

1. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - characterized by intrusive thoughts that produce uneasiness, apprehension, fear, or worry; by repetitive behaviors aimed at reducing the associated anxiety; or by a combination of such obsessions and compulsions.

2. Bipolar disorder - characterized by episodes of an elevated mood known as mania, usually alternating with episodes of depression. During mania an individual feels abnormally happy, energetic, or excitable, but often makes poor decisions due to unrealistic ideas or poor regard of consequences.

3. Generalized anxiety disorder - an anxiety disorder that is characterized by excessive, uncontrollable and often irrational worry. For diagnosis of this disorder, symptoms must last at least six months

4. Narcissistic personality disorder is a personality disorder in which a person is excessively preoccupied with personal adequacy, power, prestige and vanity, mentally unable to see the destructive damage they are causing to themselves and to others in the process _(ok, this totally sounds like Grandmere). _Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by dramatic, emotional behavior _(but this is totally me! Could it be genetic?)_

5. Histrionic personality disorder is defined as a personality disorder characterized by a pattern of excessive emotions and attention-seeking.

6. Hypochondriasis or hypochondria refers to excessive preoccupancy or worry about having a serious illness. This debilitating condition is the result of an inaccurate perception of the condition of body or mind despite the absence of an actual medical condition.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone,

I am back with chapter 3!

Thank you all for reading and - yeah, well, Michael will be featured in this in later chapters.

Till then, enjoy and please review.

I will be back after exams are over - wish me luck! :)

love, w. **  
**

* * *

**Friday, March 28, Princess Lessons**

Grandmere hasn't mentioned her phone call.

She acts like she totally didn't offend me last night.

Since Sebastiano is not a royal designer anymore, it means we have no one to create ball gowns especially for us anymore. But apparently, every royal family HAS to have someone creating outfits for them, even though they still mostly buy dresses from Gucci or whatever. So, now she is on the hunt to find someone new.

The problem is, no one is better than Sebastiano.

Today, instead of Princess Lessons, we are being introduced to Anton, an aspiring designer from Russia.

Because, you know, if a princess wears a spectacular gown, she can be scratching her armpits but no one will notice.

"Your Highness, it is a pleasure to meet you!" exclaimed Anton when I entered Grandmere's suit. He ran towards me, knelt in front of me and started kissing my hand. I thought Grandmere's kissing habits were excessive (a kiss on left cheek, a kiss on right cheek and a kiss on left cheek again), but Anton's were even worse. Finally after kissing my hand for about a BILLIONTH time Lars pushed him away so that I could sit down.

"Ah, Amelia, you are late," Grandmere said, "you met Anton. He is a very talented designer from Novosibirsk, one of the best of his generation. He was kind enough to fly to New York to show us some of the gowns from his collection. Anton, please, go ahead."

She smiled him her best smile as René sat down next to me.

"So, have you thought about my offer?" he whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes as Anton showed us a very short yellow cocktail dress with a collar that seemed a lot like fur.

Real fur.

"I told you, René, no thank you," I said.

"Oh, Anton, this is so imaginative!" Grandmere said while sipping her Sidecar. Though I am not entirely sure what she was talking about since the low cut didn't leave much to imagination.

"You know, BC, if you put these kind of dresses into your book, it is bound to be a hit," René winked at me and of course I had to hit him in the shoulder.

"Amelia!" said Grandmere under her breath as Anton moved on to show us something that looked like Papaw's Hawaiian shirt transformed into a dress with a super tight top that would only exaggerate the absence of certain body parts of mine.

"Look at that cut!" Grandmere exclaimed.

"Grandmere, no offense," I said as Anton ran to the room where he kept his creations, "why do you insist on finding a new designer right now? I mean, Sebastiano has been gone since January and only now you have scheduled…"

Grandmere's eyebrows shot up and Rommel who she had been patting shrieked.

"Amelia," she said in that malicious voice, "did you forget?"

"What?" I exclaimed, "no, I didn't forget. Forget what?"

"About the open door day at Genovian Embassy?" she reminded me.

Dad's campaign leader (you know, I babbled to the whole world that Genovia was supposed to be a democracy so now we are having elections in May), a very ambitious woman named Gloria, has recently come up with an idea that Genovian are more likely to vote for my Dad if he received more of international support – meaning, if the whole America would be rooting for him. She said that it would create a pressure on Genovians that they were supposed to elect someone with international support – since in times of recession good international relations are beneficial (Gloria majored from both social psychology and politics at some fancy Swiss school). So she and Vigo have come up with a plan to introduce Genovia to America with an open door day, meaning, the media will be invited to Genovian Embassy in New York where the best aspects of Genovia will be presented.

And since I am the Genovian Princess AND the true reason why the elections are happening in the first place, I am obligated to attend.

And, of course, as Gloria added, I am so rarely available for interviews that certain reporters would attend the day only to speak to me or to take a picture of me.

"And you appearing on the cover if Sixteen magazine," said Gloria, "will make you popular with Genovian adolescents."

So, yeah, I am no longer only a sex object in my Grandmere's eyes, now I am a promotional tool.

Which, I gotta admit, I do like better.

"So?" I said. "Why do we have to have a designer picked by then? Are you planning on sponsoring someone's collection or something and revealing it there?"

"Of course not, Amelia. We need someone to create dresses for the two of us. We cannot just appear there wearing … overalls or something as pagan as that."

Well, that hurt. Especially because I haven't worn any overalls since my binge-eating week when I outgrew all my overalls.

And since Lana is not a big fan of overalls and we usually go shopping together, I never really had a chance to buy new ones.

"We could go to Chanel or something?" I suggested.

"_Pfuit_! Right! This is not just _another_ ball, Amelia, this is of national importance! Of course we will have gowns created especially for us! Do you think Princess Grace walked into a boutique and just picked something when she attended an event that would change its country's future?"

"Well, no …"

"Exactly," she said, "Anton, we are ready for another dress."

"Of course, Your Highness!" he yelled from another room.

What he showed us next was a knee-length red coat with big, ancient-looking buttons and a grey scarf. The model had fur hat on her head.

"This coat is amazing," said Grandmere.

"Actually, it looks a lot like the coat Canadians wore at the opening ceremony in Sochi," suggested Lars.

"And that's real fur, I am not wearing that!" I shrieked.

"Well, I don't think this look would represent Genovia very well," said René, "you know, on account of our winters being so warm. Actually, BC, I have an idea. You should appear at the ball wearing swimsuit. That would make New Yorkers aware of what he greatest thing about Genovia is. Constant summer."

"That's enough, René, a princess would never wear swimsuit to an event, what are you thinking?" screamed Grandmere. "Have you been talking to Sebastiano? He must have been feeding your head with pop-star trash mentality."

"Well, I am sure he knows great butchers," grinned René

"I don't think Anton could represent us well with his creations, Grandmere," I carefully suggested.

"Well, Amelia, good designers do not grow on trees. We cannot afford to be too picky, not many quality designers would agree to our terms."

"I think if we asked Sebastiano, he would be more than happy to create something for us," I shrugged.

Talk about excessive reaction. Grandmere's eyes went all huge – a terrifying image since she has that dreadful line under her eyes – and it scared Rommel so much that he jumped out of her arms and ran under the nearest coffee table for cover.

Not before a delivery man who entered the suit almost tripped over him. Luckily he maintained enough balance not to drop the gigantic bouquet he was carrying.

The bouquet was gorgeous. It was made of yellow, white and orange lilies.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," said the delivery man, looking at Grandmere, "this came for you."

I guess I should be glad that it turned out flowers calm Grandmere as much as Sidecar. Her eyes returned to its normal size and Rommel dared to look from under the table.

"Oh!" she exclaimed and waived Anton who came armed with the next dress off, "who could this possibly be from!"

It was totally obvious who she wanted it to be from.

"Grandmere, don't buy this, it's the cheapest trick in the book!" I yelled.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, young lady."

"Arne! Don't let him fool you again!"

"Oh, Amelia, you are just jealous because I am getting flowers and you aren't."

Sometimes I wonder if there's any use in being kind to her. I mean, look at what I get in return!

"That is so not the case. I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I am a Renaldo woman, I am capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," Grandmere dismissed me and looked at the card that came with the bouquet.

"Cards can lie," René said after I hit him in the stomach, "I once sent chocolates to this Irish chick I was seeing and wrote that she had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Well, she didn't."

At first I really thought that was what made Grandmere rethink Arne's grand gesture of sending her flowers. Because in a blink of an eye a smile disappeared off his face and clearing her throat she out the card down and screamed for a Sidecar.

"Grandmere?" I carefully said.

"Never mind," she screamed when Sidecar was not brought right away. "Let's go on with our work. Anton, we are ready for more!"

WHAT IS WITH THESE DESIGNERS? WHY DO THEY USE SO MUCH FUR? I KNOW THAT WHITE FUR CAME FROM SOMETHING ENDANGERED, IT TOTALLY LOOKED LIKE THAT!

"I am not a princess," René smirked, "but if I was totally into saving stray cats, I wouldn't dare to wear anything with real fur. Anton, do you have anything without fur?"

"Fur is the symbol of the place I am from. I always incorporate a piece of my home into every single thing I design! It is my trademark!"

"Well, I wish Vigo read his resume before he sent him here. I guess there's no point in trying to convince you to wear anything of his, right, Amelia?" Grandmere sighed, "Thank you, Anton, but no thank you, I don't think you are the right choice for us. Now, where is my Sidecar? What do I have to do to get a Sidecar? Excuse me, but I am a princess – people should be thrilled to be making Sidecars for a princess!"

The staff here at Plaza might have been psyched about it the first day of her stay. When she started soaking the walls of her suite with Chanel No. 5 and making carpets into a disposable material because of the cigarette smoke, not to mention her Thai salads in the middle of the night with ingredients that are rather hard to obtain, well, then they realized she is truly a pain.

"I'm gonna teach you something, BC," sighed René, "you know how people say Mohammed has to go to the mountain because the mountain won't come to him? Well, the mountain can move, it is just too lazy most of the time. When there's smoke, it'll want to save its own butt and therefore, it will go to Mohammed."

I swear, sometimes I don't know whether he is drunk or just weird.

I mean, he might be suffering PTSD from his abandoned problems in his childhood, plus, the amount of liquor he has drunk in his life, could have easily tampered with his rationality.

"What are you talking about?"

"If she doesn't tell you what has upset her so much, then go to the source," he got up, "the card."

And he walked to the bouquet and took the card. I read it over his shoulder.

"To Clarisse, the most fascinating woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I have seen these and immediately thought of you – so delicate, so beautiful, so lavish! _Cordialement_, Frederik."

We looked at each other in confusion.

"Frederik? Is that Arne's middle name or something?" I finally said.

"No, I don't think it is," René shook his head, confused. "I have no idea who he is. But one thing is clear - your grandmother has got herself an admirer. Trust me, this thing wasn't cheap. I would really, really have to like a girl to buy something like this. Or screw something up, badly."

"An admirer?" I gasped.

"Must be a brave man, I know."

"She had one before," I said, "Dr Stevo. He was an astrologist or something."

"Yeah? How did that end?"

"He proposed to her, she ran away and hurt her foot. Plus, he said that my longest-lasting relationship would be with a Leo."

"A Leo? Isn't Michael…"

"A Capricorn, I know."

"What are you two doing?!" Grandmere demanded as she hurried to us and took the card out of Rene's hands, "why are you two snooping on me? Amelia, princesses never snoop, it is not polite. And, Amelia, this is all for today, I have to get ready for a conference call with Vigo. You don't have to come over here tomorrow, I won't have time for….."

"Hooray, a day off," said René, "who is Frederik?"

"None of your concern. Goodbye," she cut us off and walked straight into the bathroom, with her loyal maids following.

"Well, look on the bright side, Genovia," René shrugged.

"And what's that? That the mountains won't start moving by themselves for sometime?"

"No – we have a day off tomorrow. I can totally go check out that new bar that has opened in Soho last week."

**Friday, March 28, ****Loft, 9 pm**

Ok, so I decided I have to find out who this Frederik guy is.

I mean, I don't exactly LOVE my grandmother, but I care for her enough not to want to see her get hurt again.

I wish she returned this feelings, I really do.

Anyway, so I now I am sitting in front of my computer (when will I get a laptop? I am totally mature enough for one.), asking Uncle Google about this mysterious Frederik.

Let me just say it would be way easier if he had a surname.

I mean, obviously he must have a surname; it is just that I don't know it.

And there are many Frederiks important enough to be named by Google.

I was almost positive I had found him when I saw a hit pertaining to a Danish Prince. Sadly, in the next moment I remembered he was a) married and b) way younger than Grandmere.

Apparently knowing the family trees of major royal families does come in handy once in a while.

Anyway, then I tried googling Grandmere's name in combination with Frederik. I thought that, I don't know, they might have met at some gala or something recently – god knows she has been to plenty of them. And since usually there are many cameras at events like that, I thought that they could have been photographed together or something.

Yeah …. Not so much.

Maybe I could try calling Dad? He might know.

Ooooh, René has just texted me! Maybe he discovered something!

Rene: _found anything? I didn't. I tried talking to her maid, her other maid, the replacement maid and the maid on call. Her driver doesn't remember anyone by the name of Frederik either. I have a plan, though – I will try to get her event schedule from Vigo, then I'll check the guest list for every event and search for anyone by that name._

Uh-oh. I was just texting him back when Mum came to my room. She wasn't exactly happy to find me behind my computer and with a phone in my hands.

"Mia, do you really have nothing better to do than this?" she sighed.

"I am just talking to René," I shrugged.

"Haven't you spent the entire afternoon with him?"

"Yeah… but …"

She sat down on my bed. Which is never a good sign.

"I have talked to your Dad …. He has noticed that your phone bill is bigger every month."

"Um… ok?"

"Do you have to text so much?"

"Well … yeah."

"When were the good times when you kids emailed each other?"

"I mean …. With Michael in Japan, Sebastiano in LA, Harry in Europe and … you know, all the daily drama, I do use my phone a lot."

I mean, Grandmere has an ADMIRER! HOW COULD I BE NOT TALKING TO RENÉ ABOUT IT?

"From the start I doubted whether René and those fellas were the right company for you … but anyway, this is no what I wanted to talk to you about?"

"Oh, what is it, then?" I asked, ignoring the next text from René.

"Well, it is … I know that Michael is coming home next week. And I am not making any illusions…"

"Yeah, about that, Mum … is it ok if we go out Tuesday night? I mean, I know it is school night and all but Michael…"

I mean, Michael and I totally wouldn't be together if Mum didn't literally force to go to Japan to visit me. Besides, he reinvented cardio surgery for me, basically. How could she possibly say no to that?

"Yes, it is, but, Mia, I want to…"

"Helen, your mother is calling you," Mr G poked his head in my room, "apparently, she still wants us to fly down for Easter. I told her you are in the shower but I guess I used that excuse too many times – she said it is a wonder we still have any hot water left from all the showers you have been taking lately. Mia, I sincerely hope you are using computer for school purposes."

"Strictly," I smiled.

Mum sighed.

"Ok, I have to take this call. I do hope we will talk later, Mia."

"Sure thing, Mum," I nodded.

And then she finally got out of my room so that I was able to text René back.

Only, just as I grabbed the phone again, it rang.

And it was Michael.

"Michael!" I exclaimed into the phone, "thank god! How did you know I need to talk to you urgently? I need your help, I have no idea what to do!"

"Ok, first of all, hello to you too and secondly, calm down. Take a breath. What's happening?" he said somehow worried.

"So, René and I had Princess Lessons, like every day."

"Oh, you had that new designer presenting his work, didn't you? Was there real fur?"

"No! I mean, yes, it was, but that is not the problem! I mean, no, obviously it is a big problem because it is totally wrong for people to kill animals just so that you can use its fur, I mean, come on, we have fake fur for that reason and it isn't any worse. It is just like real one and you wouldn't know it is no real unless there was a nametag!"

"Mia, I love you but I cannot do anything about fashion industry using real fur. I can set up online petitions but…"

"No! I don't want you to do anything! I mean, yeah, I wish you did something but I know you can't save langurs or whales, Dr K and I worked it all out already. But that is not what I want to talk about. The problem is what happened after. Michael, some Frederik guy had flowers delivered to Grandmere!"

Michael didn't say anything for about a whole minute. Unfortunately, it wasn't worry that kept him quiet as I had hoped.

"Mia, I am sorry, but I do not understand why you are so upset about this."

"WHY I AM SO UPSET? MICHAEL, DID YOU FORGET THAT ARNE HAS BROKEN HER HEART?"

"No, I didn't forget, Mia," he said sounding somewhat annoyed, "actually, if I am honest, the days when she was 'heartbroken', as you call it, were pretty much my favorite days I have ever spent in her company."

I know I should hate him for saying so. But … then again, this is my grandmother we're talking about.

"Yeah, I know …" I sighed, "But still! I want to know who this Frederik is! I mean, she doesn't want to talk about it and René and I are worried that he might…"

"Mia … don't you think your grandmother can take care of her love life herself? I can't really see what you can do about it other than to leave it alone."

"But don't you want to know who he is?"

"If we are going to talk about what I want, I want to talk to you about something other than your grandmother."

"Yeah, but you are a computer genius! You can help me track the guy down, right?"

"Mia…"

"What if he wants her money? What if he is like Arne? WHAT IF HE WANTS TO KIDNAP HER AND DEMAND RANSOM?"

"If I remember correctly, Mia, your grandmother has more bodyguards than you and your dad combine. I assume they are not there just to carry her suitcases."

"I don't think they can do much when it comes to protecting her heart from breaking."

"No – that is something she will have to deal with herself. Now, why don't you tell me what you would like to do Tuesday night?"

"Well, since it is your first day back in New York, the greatest city in the whole world, I will let you choose."

"Alright. Then don't you dare complaining – I gave you a chance to pick."

No need to worry, really. Michael always has great ideas. I mean, his Valentine gifts are always the best – even though he does not believe in Valentine's Day. And he always alleviates the pain of terrible gifts I get on my birthday from Tante Jean Marie. Not to mention what he did for me last Christmas.

Besides, Michael is all I want. I could just be in her arms, for the entire evening, and it would be the greatest day.

I can't wait for him to come home. Just 4 more days, including the remainder of today's evening.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


	4. Chapter 4

Alright ... so some of you wanted the next chapter ASAP ... I wanted to finish the Saturday night before posting it so that the next chapter would only include Sunday but since I don't see any free time for writing in the near future, here it is half of Saturday. I guess the next chapter will be slightly longer then.** :)**

Thank you all for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing. You guys make exam month bearable :)

Enjoy and see you in a few weeks,

love, w.

* * *

**Saturday, March 29, Loft, 9 am**

Update on the Frederik situation?

Let's just say that after Michael's call last night, I kind of lost any interest in Grandmere's love life (and school work as well … just don't tell Mr. G that).

And after I failed to answer René's texts, he decided that if I dared to pay more attention to my interests, so would he. I managed to gather that a club in Soho called Plaza at 4 in the morning to send someone to get him as he lost his wallet and couldn't collect enough change for a cab back to the hotel.

Lars said it didn't look like he would be in a state to do much today.

Which is a good thing because I am planning on catching up on my school work.

I mean it. I will catch up on my school work today.

**Saturday, March 29, Loft, 10 am**

I mean, I WILL catch up after I go to the store and buy kitty litter for Fat Louie.

I can't believe I forgot to buy it yesterday.

**Saturday, March 29, Loft, 11 am**

Well, actually I can believe I forgot. I mean, I am totally overworked lately –

1. I am in my Senior Year and exams are coming up soon.

2. Everybody is pushing me to finally pick college. And since everyone has its own idea where I should go, it is no easy task. Especially because it doesn't really matter where I go because I already have a job and I will have a job forever. Whether I like it or not.

3. We learnt in school that the sooner a child starts talking in a foreign language, the better he is in that language. Because I don't want Rocky to suffer the same fate as me – spending months in a country where he too will have a somewhat-royal status (he is a brother of a princess. That makes him more of a Genovian Royalty than René is, anyway) but totally sucking in French, I decided to make sure he will be as bilingual as he possibly can be - so I talk to him in French for about an hour (or two if I feel like neglecting homework) a day. Not that I have been very successful in my task. Mum totally doesn't like what I am doing and Rocky, well, he seems to be more into trucks and drums than into language. He should be thankful.

4. I try to prevent Lilly and Lana from killing each other, trust me, it is not an easy task.

5. I am the main motivator when it comes to Lana and her studies. I mean, if it wasn't for me, she would totally focus more on getting her face all over than on getting grades that will make her a candidate for colleges.

6. I am trying to be a regular reporter for Atom.

7. Still nothing is being done to try and help save langurs. They are still critically endangered and people still don't know what they even are. Apparently, what the majority of people got out of my speech at Christmas was how beautiful my hair and dress looked. Dad was totally relieved that no one picked up on me being a rebellious princess.

8. I am having a long distance relationship. Relationships are hard when a couple is in the same city, well, try to be on two different hemispheres. Mum can complain about phone bill all she wants. It is not like she ever had a boyfriend who has spent last 18 or so months in JAPAN.

9. Besides, Michael is coming home Tuesday. Thinking of all the things we would do that are kind of hard to do over the phone would make everyone slightly balmy.

10. I am trying to make sure Sebastiano doesn't get fired in LA, or that he doesn't die of un-sensed starvation since he is an artist and artists have phases of complete incapability of taking care of themselves during their artistic outbursts (I would know, my Mum is a painter and she sometimes forgets to feed herself. Though now that Mr G is living with us, it is happening quite rarely, thank god)

11. I am constantly helping Harry with his attempts to make Nastassja as crazy about him as he is about her. Not an easy task. I probably know more about flowers than an average florist.

12. I have René following me around me 24/7 – yeah, I know I should be used to it by now, since I also have a bodyguard, but Lars is at least quiet – René keeps sticking his nose into my business.

13. I am helping JP with his play. For some reason, he likes my artistic comments. I wonder if he still appreciated my opinion so much if he knew I had written as love novel.

14. And, of course, this whole thing with Ransom My Heart. Should I have it published or not? I mean, I totally don't want people to read it and at the same time, I totally want to get published. Do all authors feel this way?

15. Grandmere and her secret admirer. I mean, I HAVE to find out who he is! Michael might think it is funny but he might have bad intentions or something!

16. Speaking of Grandmere, I am still trying to convince her to let me have orange hair again. I mean, I kind of like the color.

17. And speaking of convincing Grandmere of anything, I have still not given up on hiring Paramore or Mumford and Sons to play at my Birthday Party. I know she wants to hire Madonna and, I mean, I like Madonna and all, but … I kind of outgrew the phase when I idolized her.

I mean, I totally have so much stuff to worry about! And don't even get me started on the whole Princess Thing. I might not be complaining about it because I know I can't do anything about it, but that doesn't mean I am ok with it!

Where was I?

Oh, right, I have to go buy kitty litter.

**Saturday, March 29, the mall, 2 pm**

I know that I have a lot of school work to catch up on, but this is a fashion emergency!

I mean, it just occurred to me that Michael is coming home in THREE DAYS and I have no idea what to wear!

I mean, I am not saying that I should dress up or anything since this is MICHAEL and he has seen me in the most outrageous, the most every day and the most beautiful clothes known to man – worn-out pajamas, overalls, school uniform, jeans, Chanel, Sebastiano Grimaldi unique pieces – he has seen me in everything already (and as well as in nothing, but that is not my point).

But still, I mean, I can't just go to the airport wearing tracksuit. Or jeans and a sweater. I mean, you just don't do that after the love of your life comes back after 18 months!

Remember Allie in The Notebook? SHE TOTALLY DIDN'T GO MEET NOAH AFTER 7 YEARS WEARING THE FIRST THING THAT FELL OUT OF HER CLOSET IN THE MORNING!

SO HOW COULD I GO TO THE AIRPORT LOOKING LIKE I AM READY TO NEGOTIATE THE PRICE OF ORANGES ON THE MARKET?

Exactly, I can't!

Basically, I have no proper clothes for this occasion.

And Sebastiano is busy in LA.

Meaning, I need to go shopping.

While having a video chat with Sebastiano.

At first I was worried he might be angry with me or something, since, you know, I wasn't very kind to him the last time we spoke, but luckily, after I told him of my fashion emergency, he was totally ready to help me.

Mainly because he loves shopping.

And he is forever grateful to Michael for helping him set up his own company, Sebastiano Grimaldi Fashions.

To be honest, I think he likes him way better than he likes me.

Lars of course found it all incredibly funny. You know, me swirling around in about a hundred different outfits while he had to film me with my phone so that Sebastiano could see and tell me what he thought. Lars should seriously not be making fun of me like this! I mean, I totally only picked shops where he got free refreshments while I was in a changing cabins! And not to mention, the shops assistants all became totally besotted by him and his impressive 'thighs' as one of the ladies put it (ok, what is with these men trends that are apparently happening? Since when are women impressed by THIGHS? Now that I have a steady boyfriend, I am totally unfamiliar with what is hot and what is not).

Speaking even more of Lars, I don't think I have mentioned yet that he is growing out mustache, have I? Well, he is and it is the most dreadful thing ever. Not just because I am not big fan of mustache (ok, a bit of facial hair is super-hot, no matter what Grandmere thinks – I mean, we are talking of a woman here that has never seen Ryan Gosling in The Notebook. Or Chris O'Donnell in NCIS), but because he is not even trying to make the mustache look presentable. I mean, he just wants it to grow out as much as possible! I asked him why he was even doing it (I mean, why would anyone even want to have mustache as big as a rat under your nose? WHY? You can't even eat properly!) and he said he was getting a head start at Movember (you know, a campaign that urges men to grow out mustache in November to raise awareness of prostate cancer). Which is nice and all, but – it is only March! Ok, almost April, but STILL!

Though I think it is not the only reason. Wahim, Tina's bodyguard, is doing it too. At first I thought that maybe they were trying to attract Mademoiselle Klein's attention, for one last time since she is now engaged to be married to Mr Wheeton, but now I am thinking it might be because of the Olympics. You know, since both Lars and Wahim are avid sport fans and they had to watch pretty much everything that was on TV (I felt so free during the Olympics. Where was my boyfriend, I wonder, Lars totally wasn't paying attention!). Anyway, they came across this guy with massive mustache and he became their hero or something. So I am guessing now they are trying to top this mustache or something.

Whatever. The most interesting thing regarding Olympics was when that guy broke the door down when he was stuck in the bathroom.

That was HOT!

Besides, winter sports are so boring. Summer sports, like swimming, are like so much better. I mean, men are like half naked there!

Anyway, I didn't intend to write about Lars' facial hair. But it is so big I keep getting distracted.

Where was I again?

Clothes, right.

So, at first we wanted to buy this knee-length orange dress until Lars pointed out it would totally be screaming out I AM TRYING TOO HARD since I don't usually wear dresses.

Sebastiano then suggested I instead get very tight, perfectly fitting jeans, 'to emphasize what I have' (or don't have I wanted to correct him but since his fashion choices made me look good in the past, I kept my mouth shut), so I went through nine different stores to get jeans that looked somewhat good. It was so hard to find a pair that would make Sebastiano happy, I am pretty sure his next big fashion line will be jeans (or maybe this will finally be a line that will find its way into stores).

Afterwards we had to find a nice yellow top (why Sebastiano suggested it had to be yellow, I had no idea) and, of course, a push up bra, to at least imply that something is going on in my chest department.

Lars, who as I said found it all oh so funny, of course had to remind us that the temperatures are kind of too chilly to only be walking around in a top so we went hunting for a trendy jacket.

After we found it (I know I should spend money on saving langurs and whales but, come on, it's MICHAEL!) Sebastiano made me call Paolo, my makeup/hairstyle consultant and we spent the next hour looking for just the perfect shade of lipstick and eye shadow.

Now Lars and I are off to get some chocolate cake. This shopping thing made my totally exhausted.

Plus, Lars needs to put some sugar into his bloodstream. I mean, he became unbearable when I was looking for the right lipstick.

Like it is my fault there were no refreshments there. Or that he doesn't see the difference between dark maroon and light maroon.

Or that all the cute shopping assistants were on the perfume department.

**Saturday, March 29, the mall, 3 pm**

I just hope the credit card company didn't call Dad and told him how much I spent.

**Saturday, March 29, loft, 4 pm**

Louie loves the cat litter I got him.

**Saturday, March 29, loft, 5 pm**

I knew I forgot to buy something!

What about SHOES?

WOULD BLACK HIGH HEEL GUCCI BOOTS BE EXAGGERATING IT?

**Saturday, March 29, loft, 5:30 pm**

I'll just ask René to go shopping for shoes with me after he comes out of his alcohol-induced coma.

Though Lars told me that I shouldn't be too optimistic since he has still not sobered up from last night.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


	5. Chapter 5

Sooo, I am back! :D Sorry for the delay, exams got the better of me.

Anyway, I will probably update more frequently now.

Thank you all for reading and please REVIEW.

Much love, w.

* * *

**Sunday, March 30, loft, midnight**

I guess I was even more overworked than I thought I was.

I completely forgot Lilly, Lana and Tina were going to sleep over at my place tonight.

I don't really remember us making this arrangement.

Of course, it might be that they simply made it up.

But I am not putting myself into the role of the victim. It is pathological.

Anyway, Mum came to my room to talk to me about something but just as she sat down, the doorbell rang.

I totally thought the credit card company came to inform me they thought someone stole my credit card and went on a crazy shopping spree (seriously, the designer jeans and jacket were not cheap). I thought Mum's whatever-she-meant-to-talk-to-me-about speech would turn into the you-do-not-need-designer-clothes-to-feel-good-about-yourself-that-confidence-is-fake-and-will-not-help-you-in-the-long-run speech.

The next thing, Lilly, Lana and Tina walked into my room and Mum just rolled her eyes and left. Lana put on music, the new I-wanna-shag-you mix even though the rest of us weren't so keen on idea – as it turned out, Lilly thought the meeting wouldn't be social but actually serve as an overview of the upcoming plots of Lilly Tells It Like It Is, while Tina was thinking we would have a Bridget Jones Marathon. What we got, was Lana's detailed description of a party she went to last night and her not really imaginative use of words when it came to a guy she hooked up.

At least they brought along Ben and Jerry and I ate so much of it I am seriously worried I won't be able to put on the super skinny jeans on Tuesday.

But anyway, that is not what I wanted to write about.

And me not doing any of the school work today isn't it either.

"But anyway, enough of me," Lana finally said after about half an hour, "Mia, I am here to help you."

"With what? Trigonometry?"

"It's Saturday night, I don't do any school work on Saturday evenings," she dismissed me, "so, Michael is coming home, right?"

"Tuesday," Lilly said, "why do you care? I don't remember you ever even speaking to him, with the exception of that time when you practically begged him from your knees to play at your boyfriend's prom."

"Whatever. I don't care when your geeky brother is coming home, I am interested in Mia's boyfriend's return."

"You do realize that that's the same person, right?" Lilly smirked.

"Of course I do. So, Mia, have you thought about the clothes you are going to wear when he comes home?"

"Um…"

No, not at all, with the exception of maxing out my credit card.

"Don't listen to her, Mia, you do not need to dress up for my brother's return. He's a guy, he won't notice what you'll be wearing anyway."

"I wouldn't be surprised if your boyfriend never notices what you are wearing, Lilly, I am sorry to tell you, but you certainly do not dress to be noticed."

"Excuse me, Lana, but I am more concerned about real problems of the world – you do realize that women are being enslaved and sold as you are standing in front of your mirror and choosing the perfect shade of lipstick to match your clothes? I much rather spend that time to raise public awareness of REAL problems and I don't even WANT a boyfriend who would care more about whether or not my butt looks big in the new jeans than about world hunger. And trust me when I tell you that Mia thinks the same way. And my brother doesn't care what she wears – though I think he would start caring if she appeared there in a Xena costume or something."

"Whatever. Don't listen to her, Mia. Your guy is coming home after a year or something - you HAVE TO dress in something special. Not too special, but special enough. And no worries, I have it all figured out – obviously we have to go with blue, since…"

And she got up and walked to the closet and as she started opening it, all I could think was SHE WAS GOING TO FIND THE CLOTHES I BOUGHT AND SHE WILL KILL ME FOR GOING SHOPPING WITHOUT HER AND LILLY WILL FEEL TOTALLY BETRAYED BECAUSE DESPITE CARING FOR WHALES AND LANGURS I SPENT A SMALL FORTUNE ON CLOTHING.

But you know, this is me we are talking about. Nothing goes according to plan when it comes to me. Every bad thing that is supposed to happen turns out even worse.

So the first thing that fell out of the closet wasn't what I bought today but…

The lingerie Lana and Trish bought me as a Christmas gift.

As a gift I was supposed to 'use' when Michael came back.

Of course, clothes lost all its importance.

"Actually, on the second thought …" Lana grinned and her eyes looked like those of a madwoman. "I think there's another aspect of Michael's return that requires me helping you. This might be even more urgent than clothes since you can just dress whatever we bought the last time we went shopping. So …"

I felt my face turning all red. I guess this is what I get for not telling anything to my friends.

Maybe hiding stuff really is worse than lying. I mean, if you lie to somebody, they will feel like you don't care enough about them to tell them the truth. But if you don't tell them ANYTHING, they will think you are completely ignoring them, not caring enough about them to even LIE to them.

I mean, how I could I tell him about what happened when Michael came visit me during Christmas? Lana would want to know all the details and, I am sorry, but I don't really feel comfortable sharing them; Lilly would be … I don't really know what, but she's Michael's sister – talk about awkward. And not to even mention Tina – she will think I am slut! We totally made a deal to lose our virginity after prom! She would feel totally betrayed! So of course I couldn't tell anyone?

Hmmm…. I am totally over-rationalizing this, aren't i?

So, really, the only thing I could do was just to keep a straight face. I mean, I was a virgin long enough to still know how to act like one.

"First of all," Lana said, "I am here in case you need anything or want to know anything. Second of all, I know about all that romantic crap you are reading, so I need to tell you that is completely exaggerating the whole thing. Sex is just sex and…"

"That is so not true!" Tina opposed. "Sex is a very emotional experience. It is about to people uniting physically, emotionally and spiritually …"

"You are entitled to your opinion, Tina," interrupted Lana, "but you are wrong. Sex is just sex. Anyway…"

"Well, maybe sex is just sex to you because you have never slept with anyone you loved!" exclaimed Tina.

"It is kind of weird that you are a sex expert, Miss I-Am-Waiting-Till-My-Prom-Night," Lana rolled her eyes. Just a moment later, though, her eyes became really focused. I seriously thought she would explode. At least judging by how her voice became all pitchy. "Wait…"

"You can't blame me!" Tina suddenly screamed. "Have you seen him? And he looks so good without his shirt! I just couldn't resist…"

Lana started laughing really loud as Tina turned to me and looks at me all apologetically.

"I am so sorry, Mia," she said, sounding like she was on a verge of tears, "I wanted to wait, really, but …. I am so sorry!"

Hmmm … so I have been feeling guilty for so long for no reason whatsoever? It's good, though, I am relieved to see that Tina realizes how stupid the whole prom night plan was.

I guess we are really growing up.

It is totally scaring me, though.

"It is ok, I am just glad that you and Boris are happy, that's all," I shrugged, trying not to sound relieved that I was not the only one backing out of a deal.

"Well, Geek, now you have no reason to wait any longer," Lana said, calming down, "no stupid pact holding you back from enjoying LA VIE! Though … kudos to you, Mia. Michael is HOT! How you managed to spend Christmas with him and that week when you went to visit him last year and stay on your best virgin behavior, is beyond me. I mean, when you have HOT STUFF in front of you, you don't just IGNORE it. "

I could feel the tomato sauce being poured all over me again but luckily Lilly saved me before it could become too visible.

"Ok, Lana, this is sickening, can we talk about something besides my brother? Please?"

"You are in the minority and the democracy rules, isn't that the message you are always promoting on your show?" Lana dismissed her.

"Can we talk about something else? I mean, we are independent woman, we can talk about something besides boys, right?" I smiled.

"No, we can't. Losing virginity is not a big step, but it is a gigantic one for you and, as you said, we are independent, so we can talk freely about sex. Just look at Samantha from Sex and the City. By the way, Mia, why are you avoiding this topic so much? I mean, I know you are not frigid, I see the way you always look at Ryan Gosling."

Scratch what I said about growing up earlier. I actually can't wait to grow up and head to college. Maybe there I will find friends that won't out me down all the time.

"Unless," she went on and I knew my face looked abnormally red, "there is something you do not want to talk about. You and Mr Hot Stuff did it already as well, am I right?"

You know, Lana is actually very smart. She just doesn't know how to show it on school exams.

"No..." I started but what was the point, really?

"Oh my god, I so do not need to hear about this!" shouted Lilly and got up, "I so don't want to her about this!"

She ran out of my room, shutting the door behind her. Lana continued laughing.

"I guess I am a good influence on the two of you!"

"So, Tina, I don't think you are a slut or anything," I said.

"I felt so bad form sleeping with Boris and breaking our promise," she said. I just smiled, making her believe I felt the same. I mean, I couldn't say what I truly meant – that I didn't feel a tiniest littlest bit bad. I mean, our deal basically contributed to my spiral fall in depression.

Lilly banged on the door.

"Can we please, keep the talk of my brother's expertise on the robotic stuff level? Please?"

"Lilly, your brother is HOT," Lana screamed. "I am sorry, but that totally overshadows the fact that he is a nerd. I am just helping you deal with the denial."

Dr K told me that I should stop keeping things from people. He said that it causes an unnecessary stress and this is especially problematic for someone like me, since I am prone to neuroticism and making a big deal out of nothing. So, he concluded, I should just be honest with people.

I guess one of the things I have been keeping from everyone is now out.

But then why am I not feeling that liberated?

Oh, right, the new clothes in the closet.

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 11 am**

I was recovering after last night's sleepover (meaning, planning on sleeping till noon and once again ignoring school work) when my cell rang, waking me up.

At first I just covered my head with a pillow, thinking it would go away soon.

I mean, people usually get the message that you are unavailable if you don't answer after three rings, right?

I keep forgetting my grandmother is not human.

After it continuing ringing I just knew I should pick up. I mean, if I didn't, she would only call the home phone and my mum would never forgive me for having to deal with Clarisse before noon.

So, with my eyes shut and still half asleep I dragged myself to the phone.

"What is it, Grandmere?" I mumbled.

"Amelia, finally. Please do not tell me you were still in bed. It is ten in the morning, the most productive part of the day. I am sure you have something more important to do than be in bed. If you don't feel like doing school work, you can also take care of your skin. That facial mask Paolo gave you the other day? You could try that one out. You have to leave it on for half an hour. I do realize sleep is beneficial, but oversleeping makes your skin looks baggy and we cannot afford that happening two days before the Embassy day. Amelia? Are you even listening?"

I guess this is the definition of being too self-centered. I mean, how am I supposed to say anything if she just babbles on and on?

"Of course I am. Since when are you my alarm clock, by the way?"

"I am not, I trust you are old enough to wake up on your own. I have an emergency."

"Grandmere, if this is about coming over to the Plaza to choose between _super super_ white and _super_ white roses, I am sorry, but no."

"Vigo has taken care of roses. Apparently the New York florists do not have my favorite kind of white roses and Gloria has said and your father agreed, for some reason uncomprehensible to me, that there is no way we are bringing them from Genovia since we do not want public to think we are spending money on flower deliveries so I will have to be happy with the quasi-white ones. But anyway, no, this is not something I want to think about right now. I have made a plan how to make Arne jealous."

Arne? Again? I can't constructively deal with this even when well rested.

"Arne? Grandmere, I told you, leave him alone, he will only hurt you again. He and Contessa Trevanni are good for each other and you deserve someone better. I mean it, Grandmere."

"Not that your opinion on the matter counts, but whatever, Mia. I am going to go out with someone else and when Arne hears about it, he will immediately discover the feelings he has for me and he will come to his senses, not wanting to lose me. What do you think?"

I swear, she sounds more high school than me - though the plan did sound quite good. I guess she learnt something from watching Gossip Girl with me.

"Why would you want to make Arne jealous in the first place? To hurt him just like he hurt you when he left with Contessa? Don't you think you are better than that, Grandmere? I mean, even if he indeed came back to you, it wouldn't be because he loved you or anything. He would be just too self-centered to see someone as amazing as you with someone else."

Yes, I know. With a grandmother like mine, I will never stop lying. Hello, therapy for life.

"Amelia, I have never poked my nose into your love life so I would appreciate if your returned me the favor."

NEVER POKED HER NOSE INTO MY LOVE LIFE? IS SHE HIGH?

"What is that noise?" she said after I snorted.

"What noise? There is no noise?"

"Just because I was the only one that dared to tell you that your relationship with That… Michael was rushed and thoughtless, it does not make me a bad guy, Amelia."

_Dared_, right. Now that he is rich the relationship is perfectly thought-through, not to mention it moves too slowly for her liking. There is no relationship in Grandmere's mind if he doesn't give you sapphire ring.

"Sure, Grandmere."

"Now … do you think that the plan was good?"

I sighed.

"Yeah, I think the plan sounds nice, even though it is for the wrong … wait – was? Grandmere? Did you go out with someone already?"

"Stop poking your nose into places where it doesn't belong, Amelia, it is terribly un-princess-like. Anyway, I gave to get ready for lunch. Talk to you later, alright?" she said and hung up.

How I managed to land in therapy while she is still medicine-free, is totally beyond me.

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 1 pm**

Not to mention, René is still not picking up. Just how hung over is he? I mean, I need new shoes AND I need to find out what Grandmere has done! Her going out with just some random guy cannot end well! I mean, Arne is a sociopath! Or psychopath, I am not really sure, but whatever! He will NEVER respond well to seeing Grandmere, the woman he USED, out on a date having a good time (well, she is good at faking things. I mean, the world still believes her eyebrows are real. And that she is not a serial torturer when it comes to her granddaughter) with someone else. What if he goes crazy? Like Kevin did in Safe Haven when he saw Katie making out with Josh Duhamel's character? WHAT IF HE TRIES TO DO SOMETHING TO GRANDMERE?

Yes, I do realize she has bodyguards but when people mean business, they can do whatever they want! I mean, a guy once threw a shoe at Bush! A shoe!

She is totally playing with fire here. I should know, I saw numerous Lifetime movies about this!

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 2 pm**

And of course she is not picking up. VERY MATURE GRANDMERE!

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 3 pm**

I tried to do some school work but I struggle to keep my eyes open. I feel like they will roll back and I will fall sleep right behind the trigonometry book.

God, I am so Michael deprived. Thank god he is coming home in two days. I miss his smell. I miss his voice. I haven't talk to him in forever! I guess he is busy with his return to America (me) so I don't want to disturb him, besides, he didn't really sound happy when I nagged about Grandmere the last time. I totally need to stop talking to all my problems to him. I mean, Michael is my boyfriend, not my therapist! I have Dr K for that!

Hmmm … I wonder is Dr K is available in Sundays as well?

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 4 pm**

I know Grandmere is an adult with a lot of personnel and a complete inability to go anywhere by herself. She is NEVER alone; there is always someone by her side. So technically, her whereabouts are never unknown.

I know her not returning to Plaza after leaving last night is nothing to worry about. I know this.

SO WHY CAN'T I STOP FREAKING OUT?

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


	6. Chapter 6

This one is a bit short, I just wanted to finish Sunday so that the next chapter can start with Monday.

Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy!

Love, w.

* * *

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 6 pm**

Grandmere needs to get her priorities straight. I mean, she keeps saying that princesses her perfect, with wrinkles-free skin naturally or artificially obtained, and that we simply look FRESH!

Well, I think she has personally shortened my lifespan for YEARS today.

I was busy with my trigonometry homework (ok, trying not to fall asleep) when Mum came to my room, with a very serious look on her face.

"What's wrong?" I screamed. "Is Rocky ok?"

Because, you know, I knew that Louie was ok, since he was peacefully sleeping at my legs. Well, he was peaceful till I jumped out and screamed.

"Rocky is fine, we have to talk to your grandmother," Mum said.

And I just knew. In that moment, I just knew something horrible had happened to her. Like, maybe Arne found out about her date and plunged a knife into her body, somehow tricking the bodyguards, because if he couldn't have her, no one else could. I know it happens, I saw the movie about Rebecca Schaeffer.

Of course, there was still a possibility that years of smoking and drinking had caught up with her, but to be honest, I got that scare so many times and dreadful Princess Lessons always followed, so I am starting to believing she is somehow immune to nicotine and liver damage.

"Really?" I said with my voice shaking. Because, I mean, if Grandmere is dead … what does this mean for ME? I mean, then I would be the only princess of Genovia left and the princess' job is to greet guests when they come to the palace, entertain them, drink tea with them and to travel all around the world to visit other royal families.

DO YOU SEE COLLEGE MENTIONED ANYWHERE HERE? EXACTLY, THERE IS NO COLLEGE, BECAUSE PRINCESS IS TOO BUSY WITH HER ROYAL DUTIES TO OBTAIN FORMAL EDUCATION (ok, my problem of not knowing which college to go to would be solved, but that is just a minor comfort)! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT NO COLLEGE ALSO EQUALS?

NO AMERICA.

NO LOUIE.

NO ROCKY.

NO MICHAEL.

NO MICHAEL!

Are you kidding me? We just got back together and now I am supposed to leave AGAIN?

I am so running away. Really. I totally can do it. Renaldo women are capable of great things when it comes to fighting for their men. I can totally run away. I mean, this is MICHAEL WE ARE TALKING ABOUT!

So, as I walked to the kitchen, following mum, I already made a plan of how to avoid going to Genovia. I could totally go to Canada, to Quebec. They speak French there and, I mean, the gun culture is like so not existing there. And Canada has a way better attitude to saving the environment than America.

I would totally love Canada. Canada is great.

Dr K is right. I need to atop obsessing myself with things so much, I need to stop overreacting. I have to quit, just like I stopped biting my nails. And if I can't do it naturally, I need to find professional help – someone who would prescribe PILLS. Because, I mean, I can't go on like this. This will kill me before I'm 30.

What Mum wanted to talk to me was the cover of the newspaper. It didn't have written in bold that the Princess of Genovia was dead; no, instead it featured pictures of Grandmere and an unknown man. They were having dinner at some fancy restaurant and Grandmere was laughing and smoking (it didn't look like she was drinking Sidecar, tough) and the man's eyes were sparkling. And I even saw a Chanel bag which doubtlessly had Rommel in.

Yes. I saw Grandmere on a date.

And while I do know that I am not really intellectually gifted, I can't believe it took me a whole minute to realize what exactly was on the pictures. There is totally truth in adolescent egocentrism – I was focusing on my breathing and my not having to go to Canada and consequently completely missed the point.

Which was – I WAS STARING AT GRANDMERE'S PLAN TO MAKE ARNE JEALOUS!

She used her connections and called reporters to take lots of pictures and she paid Paolo extra money to make her skin look like it is shining from happiness.

And somewhere, she even got a guy to help her.

Maybe he is actor.

I wonder what she paid him.

Well, if this ends up hurting her, it is her own fault. Maybe if she didn't snort every time I was watching Lifetime and if she even watched it with me occassionally, she would know that jealous men are capable of horrible things.

But that again, maybe she does know. I am pretty sure I saw extra bodyguards the last time I was at Plaza.

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 7 pm**

Do people really want me to flunk the Senior Year? I am still doing the first task in my trigonometry homework and with this tempo, I won't be done till New Year!

Apparently René also saw the article and of course he called me ASAP.

Well, at least he has woken up from his hangover.

Rene: HAVE YOU SEEN IT?

Me: Yes.

Rene: she is so mean. Why did she call the paparazzi, though?

Me: hello, so that Arne would see the pictures, get jealous and come crawling back to her.

Rene: so she used a guy who is obviously in love with her? She is getting more evil every year. Where are the good ol' days when she …

Me: what do you mean 'in love'? I think it is just some actor she has hired. He probably got paid a fortune.

Rene: um… didn't you read the article?

Me: I saw the pictures, that was enough. I mean, she told me she is going out with some guy to make Arne je…

Rene: oh my god, BC, so you don't know who that guy is?

Me: I don't think it really matters, you know. He is just a pu…

Rene: IT IS FREDERIK! IT SAYS SO IN THE ARTICLE AND GOOGLE CONFIRMED IT!

I need to start getting the mandatory 8 hours of sleep. I mean, I am completely incapable of functioning if I sleep less than that. And I am not talking just trigonometry-wise.

Me: Frederik? What are you talking about?

Rene: BC, are you ok, are you sick? Frederik, the guy who sent her flowers?

And it was. The article said his name is Frederik Pilkvist and he is a real estate agent from Sweden. He is actually one of the world's best known in his business, he is selling properties all over the world. He sold that Italian house to George Clooney. He is supposed to be very rich, but he doesn't care about money – apparently he lives in a farm in the south of Norway. He is also philanthropic – he has his own foundation that is trying to save glaciers from melting.

And that is not all – there was a reason why Grandmere chose him to go to a date.

Apparently, he has a long-lasting rivalry with Arne. Arne, as it turns out, was a real estate agent himself when he was younger. The two of them were working in the same city but Frederik was doing much better and it forced Arne to go bankrupt. With the help of his father, a banker, he changed profession and became a banker himself.

The article also said that Grandmere met Frederik at engagement party of a Swedish prince last month and apparently, Frederik took an instant liking in Grandmere. She is reportedly reluctant to give him a chance after Arne broke her heart so mercilessly. But, in Carol Fernandez's words, she seems to be giving a love another chance, at least judging by the smile she wore during the dinner.

This is so wrong, this is wrong on so many levels, there are no words to explain just how wrong this is.

I need to talk to Michael.

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 8 pm**

He's not picking up. I wonder what time it is in Japan right now. Honestly, I am too emotionally drained to add 14 hours to our time.

Maybe a long, relaxing bath would help.

**Sunday, March 30, loft, 9 pm**

No aromatic baths till I finish my trigonometry homework, says Mr G.

Whatever. My life sucks either way. It is not like mastering Trigonometry will make me any happier. Or help me save the langurs.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.


End file.
